[ 3. 2 ]
tell me,
does love burn,
with delicious, destructive passion as a flame and hate as its end result?
or does love bleed black,
spilling onto the lines of "i love you" and "i hate you", making them blurry?
love blinds, you try to visualize a new life,
"the fuck is another try?" as your tears run down your face, you're tired
but the eyes won't envision a life without them,
you never planned that far ahead.
YOU ARE READING
past oblivion.
Poetry"what can i really say?" used to be my words, when i didn't know as much. when i got older, i responded to myself. "everything." now, i realize that i can use my breath to speak on everything in existence, from dust on jupiter to the depths of hell...
